


morton's fork (who protects the ones i love when i'm asleep?)

by Magnus (Magnus_Rushesin)



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Repetition, Transformers Rarepair Week, basically this is just me giving red my ocd, dont ask about the timeline okay, i wrote this all at 2-4am and did not fact check with canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27367024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnus_Rushesin/pseuds/Magnus
Summary: i havent slept in several weeks and I'm not tired // who protects the ones I love when i'm asleep?---red alert has a late night.
Relationships: Fortress Maximus/Red Alert (Transformers)
Kudos: 24
Collections: Rare TF Pair Week 2020





	morton's fork (who protects the ones i love when i'm asleep?)

**Author's Note:**

> so just a warning, theres lots of repetion and its generally abt a panic attack/me projecting my ocd onto a minor character i like. enjoy <3  
> ALSO I THINK ITS RAREPAIR WEEK? and there are like 10 total max/red fics so consider this a submission for day 3.

Red Alert stood at the front of the ship, leaning over the main control panel, hands gripping the edge tightly. He was stuck, weighing his options.   
He needed to check a security panel. He'd checked it that morning, assured himself that the system was in working order and the area surrounding their ship, parked on the surface of Luna 1, was clear. He had checked every instance of anyone leaving or entering in the past three days, and all behaviour was normal. But he needed to check the panel.   
Something could have gone wrong. An alarm could be out of order. Perhaps something, someone, had bypassed the alarms, slipped past the cameras. Perhaps they were here, now, wandering about the ship. Perhaps, like his old crewmates aboard the Lost Light, they were travelling through the ships ventilation system (note to self: install cameras within ventilation system). And if someone had gotten on board, it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt. And though he was no longer an official Director of Security, Red Alert was responsible for the safety of the others here. Especially Maximus. Max _trusted_ him. Max was vulnerable around him, Max was honest around him, Max felt _safe_ around him. And this thing, this person that had snuck on board would hurt Max and it would be Red Alert's fault.   
The problem was, this was a large building. It was no _Lost Light_ , but it would take time to get to the security panel, and it would take time to perform the needed checks and matinence. It would take time, and in that time, someone could reach the controls. If they gained control of the ship, everyone inside of it was dead. Further, if Red left the main console, he would lose access to the camera system, currently open on one of the outrageously oversized monitors borrowed from Tyrest. So many things could happen between now and the next time he would be able to check the cameras. Someone would get hurt. Someone would die. And it would be his fault.   
Red gripped the console harder, his eyes flicking about the room. He checked the vents in the upper corner, squinting, looking for the glow of optics watching from the dark, and he swore he saw a glint of it there before he remembered he needed to watch the cameras. He checked the cameras. He checked the vent. He turned around quickly, staring down the closed door behind him. _Is it locked? You locked it. But it could have unlocked. It could have given a false readout. Maybe you didn't actually lock it, and you just thought you did. Lock it, Red Alert, lock it so nobody gets hurt._  
He turned back to the cameras. He checked the vent. And he bolted from the desk, clearing the room in a few broad steps, frantically checking the locks on the door, three times. Locked. Locked. Locked. He checked the vents. He went back to the main panel, he watched the cameras.  
 _The door is locked, Red. The door is locked._ He imagined Max saying it to him, in his blunt, simple way. No flourish, accompanied by a large but gentle hand on his shoulder, or softly squeezing his hand. _The door is locked._ The way Max spoke was firm. Comforting. Red could almost believe anything he said when he said it like that. Almost.  
The door is locked. He checked the vent. He checked the cameras. He went back to the door. Locked, locked, locked. _The door is locked. You're safe._  
Max wasn't safe. Red needed to leave, to check the alarm, to lock the exterior entrances, to see Max. But he couldn't. If he left, Max would die. If he unlocked the door, Max would die. If he didn't watch the cameras, Max would die. But if he stayed, Max would die.  
He checked the door. Locked, locked, locked. He took a deep breath.   
_You're having an episode, Red Alert._ Red desperately tried to remember Rung's words, to let his therapists voice drown out the panicked, loud thoughts racing through his head. _Let's try some of the grounding techniques we've discussed, alright? The door is locked. The door is locked. It's your fault. The vents. The vents. The vents. Your fault._  
He shook his head, as if he could shake the thoughts away, gripping his helm tightly. He tried to breathe, to stabilize anything about himself, to center his thoughts. What was it Rung made him do? Avoiding panic... distract yourself. Five things you can see.  
One unlocked door. Go lock it.  
One dark, unmonitored ventilation shaft.  
Two potential blind spots.  
One camera system.  
Cameras. The cameras. Max. Think about Max. Keep him safe. Red Alert dragged a specific camera view to a different monitor, the one in his and Max's shared hab suite. Max was recharging, a rarity. Red couldn't wake him up, no matter how much he wanted to. Max looked... peaceful. No nightmares tonight.  
Red hadn't recharged in days. There was too much to do. Too much to maintain, too much to check and double check. He couldn't sleep, someone needed to keep the ship safe and functioning.   
Five things you can see.  
One recharge slab.  
Two incredibly accurate clocks.  
One tacky motivational poster.  
One sleeping conjux endura.   
Red took a deep breath. He went to the door. He turned, gave one last look to the vents, to the main camera system, to Fort Max. He opened the door. He walked through it. He locked the door behind him (locked, locked, locked) and he headed to the main entrance security panel.  
\---  
Hours later, after several more laps between the main console and various security panels, Red quietly slid open the door to the hab suite. He didn't enter, standing in the open doorway, checking the dark corners and the hall behind him. When he was sure it was safe, he turned to look at Max.   
Strewn about on his back, one arm covering his face. Asleep. Safe. Red Alert watched his breathing, trying to match his own to the slow, heavy pace. He smiled despite himself, seeing his partner, a feeling of relative safety washed over him for the first time that night.   
He wasn't sure how long he'd been standing in the doorway, but he snapped out of it when Max groaned and moved into a stretch, optics blinking to life as he sat up groggily. Red almost laughed as Max yawned, rubbing his face with a palm. Fortress Maximus, the fearsome autobot warrior, seemed so far away when Red saw him like this.  
"Hey," Max grunted, managing a sleepy smile and half-hearted, awkward wave. He glanced at one of the two clocks sitting on the desk on the other side of the room. "You're still up?"  
"Yes, I, er. I had some duties to perform. Security issues that need resolving."   
"You can't stay up forever, you know. One of these days you're just going to collapse, Red."   
"Someone has to keep us safe," he responded. He glanced over his shoulder, scanning the hallway again. He checked twice, just to be safe.   
"We have alarms, security systems. Several of them, all of which are incredibly well-maintained, all of which have never malfunctioned or failed unexpectedly before."  
"Yes, but a simple, non-sentient computer ought not to be trusted. Something could always go wrong, they need manual oversight to catch any errors before a situation becomes dangerous." Red Alert checked the hallway again.   
"Come inside, Red." Red looked around nervously, then back at Max.  
"I don't think I-"  
"Please, Red."   
"...Okay." He stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind him as Max clicked on a light. Red locked the door, and checked it three times. He paused for a moment, ready to walk away, but he decided to lock it three more times for good measure. Locked, locked, locked.

Max waved him over, sitting up with his legs off to one side of the recharge slab. When Red Alert came to stand next to him, still considerably shorter even when Max was sitting, Max offered his hands.   
Maximus was not a touchy mech. Red Alert knew that. But feeling Max's hands wrapped around his, firm and warm and steady, was calming. He felt his hands start to shake as every feeling that had been building within him began to spill out, all the terror and the hurt and the love, and he leaned into his partner, burying his head in Max's neck. Max moved his hands slowly, calmly, to hold Red, quietly murmuring _It's alright. You're safe. I'm here._ Red wrapped his arms around Max's waist, as if he could hide inside the taller mech's embrace until it all went away, until everything stopped.   
Red Alert felt hyper-aware of everything in the room. The unlocked door. The camera boring a hole into his back, through which an unknown intruder was almost certainly watching him. Even Max, a mech known for his strength, twice Red Alert's size, who could kill him without even trying.  
The moment that last thought ran through his head, Red felt ashamed. He felt guilty. He felt _disgusting_. How could he even _think_ that? How could he ever think that Max, _his Max_ , his conjunx, would ever do anything to hurt him?   
He wrapped his arms around Max tighter. _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry._  
Red wasn't sure if he was saying it out loud or not. He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for. Everything, he supposed. Tonight. Every other night that had been exactly like this one. The fact that Max had to have a conjunx who was paranoid and crazy and who would _still_ be scared of him even after everything. The fact that he couldn't keep Max safe. Everything.   
_It's alright, my love_. (My love. Not something Max said often. He tried so hard to be careful, intentional, to assign weight to his actions and every word he said, to maintain control of himself. And he was so much better at it than Red was. In a better state of mind, Red would be proud of him, but for now it was only a footnote in his rapid thoughts.) _It's okay. You're safe. You have nothing to apologize for. I love you._  
He let Red be for a few moments, letting him release all the pent-up stress and fear within him, muttering out panicked thoughts as Max calmly ran his hand in circles along the small of Red's back. As Red began to wind down, Max whispered to him, softly.  
"Can you tell me five things you can feel right now?"  
"One... Fortress Maximus. Two hands on. on my back. One floor underneath me. and... and it's cold in here." he said, his breathing slowing.   
"Do you know where we are right now?"   
"Our room. on Luna 1. it's... four in the morning? I'm Red Alert. You're Fort Max."  
Max pressed a kiss to his forehead, moving to take one of his hands again, squeezing it gently.   
"And we're safe. The door is locked. Nobody is on the ship who isn't supposed to be," Max said.  
"We're safe. The door is. uh. the door is locked. Nobody is on the ship." Red repeated. He didn't quite believe it, but saying it helped. _We're safe_.  
"How are you feeling?"  
"Uh. Better. Better, I think," Red Alert said. He didn't let go of Max's hand.   
"You should sleep." Red shook his head.  
"I can't, I-"  
"Will you try?" Max looked at him with a gentle concern completely unbefitting a mech like himself, and Red sighed.   
"Okay." Red stepped away from the slab for a moment, checking the door one more time.  
Locked.  
Locked.  
Locked.


End file.
